


And The World Was Gone

by writingalaxies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Captain America AU, Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingalaxies/pseuds/writingalaxies
Summary: In front of him, the ocean fades into a frozen white wasteland and Liam blinks rapidly against the sting in his eyes, but it’s not enough; nothing will ever be enough as long as Theo’s hand keeps slipping out of reach and his earth-shattering scream echoes in Liam’s ears like he’s still on the train, watching him fall.or, the thiam captain america au nobody asked for





	And The World Was Gone

_The world is gone._

Water is all that’s left, a vast blue, never-ending storm of waves that seeps into every inch of Liam’s vision until he’s not quite sure anymore if he’s still crashing or already drowning. It’s a little bit like being weightless, too. Like he might be defying gravity in the few moments he has left, free-falling towards the one enemy he can’t defeat.

And maybe, he thinks as he keeps pushing the control stick down, down, _down_ hard enough to make his fingers ache, maybe he doesn’t even want to.

When things get too much too fast, a primal part of him demands destruction like his lungs demand air. That’s how he’s always been. The serum in his veins only makes it easier to give in to the anger, amplifying its force as it pushes to the forefront of Liam’s mind.

The truth is, he wants to crash more than this plane and his bones.

He wants to save more people than the thousands living at the coast he’ll never reach.

He wants –

In front of him, the ocean fades into a frozen white wasteland and Liam blinks rapidly against the sting in his eyes, tightens his grip impossibly until he hears something crack beneath his hand but it’s still not enough; _nothing_ will ever be enough as long as Theo’s hand keeps slipping out of reach and his earth-shattering scream echoes in Liam’s ears like he’s still on the train, watching him fall.

Liam grits his teeth until it feels like his jaw is breaking under the pressure.

With the ground nearing at dizzying speed, he can’t bear to tear his gaze away – not even to look at his compass one last time. Hayden’s voice, choked-up and interrupted by static every few seconds, is enough to make his ribcage cave in with grief. Seeing her picture right now might just kill him before he hits the ground.

He barely catches her words through the deafening sounds of the plane but he is sure enough they’re still talking about that date.  

“You know,” he says, barely keeping his voice even. “I still don’t know how to dance.”

She laughs, although it sounds dangerously close to a sob, and Liam hopes she’ll find happiness. She deserves it so much. “I’ll show you how,” Hayden tells him softly.

The world blurs in front of Liam’s eyes and next thing he knows, he’s punching the radio hard enough for it to rip through his skin and paint its remains in a stark, accusing red. It doesn’t even hurt.

And strangely, that’s what tips him over the edge.

During the last seconds, red is all he sees and instead of holding on to the control stick now that it’s too late and useless, Liam digs his nails into his palms and hits everything in reach, all the buttons and levers he wouldn’t know how to use even if there was still a chance to get out of this alive, and no matter how strong they made him, his body isn’t enough to contain a surge of rage and sorrow so big.

He’s not ready to die.

He doesn’t want to die.  

But the ice keeps racing towards him with suffocating inevitability and Liam can punch his knuckles as bloody as he wants, it won’t change a thing.

 _Blue and white and red, how fucking ironic_ , he thinks as a sob tears out of his throat. It turns into a scream, raw and agonized and, more than anything, filled to the brim with guilt because here he is, saving New York, saving thousands and dying for the cause when he couldn’t save the one who mattered most.

He’s always hated heroes dying a martyr death.

Who says the world won’t turn to shambles again once they’ve found their noble grave?

Liam swings his fist down against the control stick in a last desperate attempt to relieve the burning tension in his veins or the tightness in his chest, wondering what went through Theo’s head when he was falling, and Liam hates himself for not knowing.

He blinks.

Crashes.

And perhaps the world isn’t gone, but he is.

 

 

*

 

 

(Thousands of miles away, Theo is dragged out of the snow and into a different kind of ice, and he stops being Theo.)

 

 

 *

 

 

The 21st century feels a lot like drowning in too many sounds and colours and people treating him like they know shit about him and the things he did, or should be doing, and Liam hates it with a fiery red passion. It’s the only emotion he feels safe showing – something heavy and dark that sets his veins alight with adrenaline, even if it feels almost poisonous at times. As long as it helps him keep his guards up, it’s enough.

New York and its painfully foreign streets get too good at tearing them down, though. Whenever he sets foot outside his apartment, Liam is reminded of how long ago he stopped belonging here, and it’s been _weeks_ but he still startles at honking cars or flashing adverts, still expects Theo to stride through his front door with a teasing smirk on his lips and a challenge in his eyes.

Liam could never quite tell if he was looking for a fight or a partner in crime.

He loved it most when it was both.

 _I should have told him_ , Liam thinks one late afternoon as he stands motionless on the Brooklyn Bridge, snapback pulled down low to cover his face, and his chest hurts in a way that makes it hard to breathe if he lingers on the sensation too long. The ever-present ache has been keeping him company ever since they got him out of the ice.

Somehow, Liam doubts it will ever fade.

If he’s being honest, he would never forgive himself if it did.

 

 

*

 

 

(He stares into the barrel of a gun, unimpressed. The smallest hint of a smirk pulls at his mouth when he sees the fear in the woman’s eyes and the way her hand is trembling as she points the weapon at him.

She won’t pull the trigger, would have done it minutes ago if she was capable of it, but he still makes sure to knock the gun out of her hand with an easy flick of his metal arm.

A wounded, whimpering noise escapes her lips. “Who are you?” she whispers, taking a step back. Her voice is firm but laced with ill-concealed terror.

He follows her movement. And frowns.

The frown is still on his face when he returns to his handlers twenty minutes later, the woman dead on her kitchen tiles.)

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse, i needed this au in my life, okay? and i'm sure of two things so far: this is going to be painful. and kira and mason are black widow and falcon.


End file.
